The Dolls' House (A Collegiate Clairs Novella)

Summary

Knowing. Feeling. Hearing. Smelling. Tasting.

Five students with Clair abilities participate in an internship solving bizarre cold cases. They'll need all their extrasensory talents to solve the case of a missing college student whose house hides more than just dolls.

This 17,000 word novella is part one in a series about the Collegiate Clairs.

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The Dolls' House (A Collegiate Clairs Novella) - Li Brown

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2014)

Chapter One

You’ve got to be kidding me.

Vinnie Daniel’s gaze roamed northward from the massively overgrown hedges surrounding the porch of 1537 Sycamore Street to the ornate cross at the third or maybe fourth floor; that wasn’t even including the likely basement. The house was ancient; more than sixty, seventy years old, if she had to take a guess. The shrubbery-induced shadows flanking the house added to the eerie shiver hitting her in Mystic’s eighty-degree weather.

Well, it’s only for a year. Just keep telling yourself that, she breathed, settling a few of her agitated nerves.

Shifting her large duffel bag from her right shoulder to her left, Vinnie grabbed the handle of the wheeled suitcase beside her and gradually made her way up the stone path, lined with ever-growing trees, to the painted wooden steps. She’d agreed to board for her degree’s mandatory third-year internship, which was insisted upon by her mentoring professor. A sense of foreboding stole over her as she climbed the gray, creaking steps to the screened-in door — and she hadn’t even touched anything or anyone… yet.

Her left index finger hovered near the gothic-decorative doorbell. This is too weird. Her natural senses were already humming with information, fearing contact with the doorbell would set off a chain reaction of emotions and energy she wouldn’t be able to control. What have I gotten myself into? A slight warm breeze wafted a few strands of her dark hair into her eyes and she raised her left hand to swipe the hair away. Her fingers instinctively stroked the tiny diamond-encrusted cross that hung on a gold chain around her neck, a gift from her father when she was just five years old. Keep this on and you’ll be safe, he had said to her. The cross defeats evil.

Again, Vinnie glanced around the porch and over her shoulder across the darkened front lawn, but then her finger was back to lingering around the doorbell, wondering whether she should.

Just do it.

With a small cry of fear, she forced her finger to press the button.

Nothing.

Not even an inkling.

Just the chime indicating she’d just pressed a doorbell.

With a shut of her eyes, Vinnie released a weary sigh of relief and inwardly laughed at her useless panicking. It’s not as if everything she touched would prompt her gut alarm. In fact, she’d gone days before sensing anything unusual from the objects or people she had come in contact with. Why would this place be any different?

The door squeaked loudly and revealed Professor Devereux on the other side. Ah, Vanessa. Glad to see you didn’t get lost.

It was touch and go. The house was in a very rich, very old part of town rarely visited by the general public.

Devereux chuckled. Here, let me take your suitcase. He opened the screen door and allowed her to pass before he relieved her of the suitcase. Vinnie waited politely in the foyer for him to lead her into the rest of the house. I’m really glad you changed your mind.

With two fingers on his free hand, Professor Devereux smoothed his black pencil mustache, a gesture Vinnie always considered rather aristocratic, but considering the house… What could be more exciting? You’ll be helping me assist the department with their cold case files. Budget restraints have forced them down to one part-time investigator. That means I’ll have a lot of work for you and the others. He parked her suitcase near a group of steps that led to the second floor before joining her in the living room.

The others. Professor Devereux pitched the internship as a chance for a small group of students to bring justice and closure to families who’d nearly lost hope that their family members could ever rest in peace.

Have the others arrived? she asked while surveying what would be her residence for the next three hundred sixty-five days. The tiny foyer served as a gateway to the open living area. Plush sofas sat atop hardwood floors and angled toward an all-brick fireplace. Antique furniture sat along the walls of the room, coupled with lighting that appeared just as aged. Even a crystal chandelier hung above her head in the foyer. A crystal chandelier. Was this guy rich on his teaching salary? Did he work cold cases for fun? At least I don’t have to pay the school’s room and board for a year.

Only Yun. She’ll be occupying the room next to yours. The guys are on their way and Wen… I’m not sure he’ll make it in tonight. Perhaps tomorrow.

She walked to the fireplace to admire the ornate craftsmanship of the iron guard enclosing the opening. The design was similar to that of the doorbell. Wen?

My graduate assistant. He’s working on his doctorate in psychology with an emphasis in parapsychology and metaphysics.

It was all beginning to make sense now: why Professor Devereux had held her behind after class one day and offered her the internship on the spot. Why after she’d declined the first two times, he continued to